One Last Thought
by JougenNoTsuki
Summary: Now all he could think about was what he'd tell her father at her funeral. A 'Blind Spot' mid ep.


Title: One Last Thought

Disclaimer: All rights belong to the other rightful owners of the 'Law & Order' brand.

A/N: I'm such a lame, lame person. Look at me, jumping on the 'Blind Spot' bandwagon..! I actually had little to no intention of writing a "post-ep" for this episode; I figured that others would take care of that! xD So, here is my mid-ep! There are just so damn many poignant scenes in this entire episode, it was hard to decide! Oh, do enjoy!

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Mutilated. Screaming in utter agony. Throat slit, eyes wide open in a horrified stare even after death. Blood pooling around her cold, lifeless corpse.

These images poisoned his mind, no matter how much he tried to cleanse his thoughts. In the beginning he thought only of getting her back, of making sure that she was safe. Now all he could think about was where her body was stashed. What he'd tell her father at her funeral. What words he'd speak in her eulogy.

The hurried drive downtown to One Police Plaza was a blur of sirens, his own desperate voice barking down the radio, buildings and faceless pedestrians rushing by.

Wanting nothing more than to crawl into a dark, cold hole in the ground and wish everything away, the haggard detective let his mind play back a recent conversation. One shared over a quick lunch of street vendor gyros and ice cold cola. They'd sat in the courtyard of One PP, discussing their recent case and snacking on the messy pita bread. And the subject came up: the next day their new captain would be arriving.

"Have you heard anything on him?" she had asked him as she took a gulp of the soda.

He remembered it was a particularly stifling summer day, the heat wave in its infancy, it only got worse as the week progressed.

"The same as you, I'm sure." his reply came with nonchalance, he remembered being annoyed with her choice to sit under the blazing sun. She had looked a little sweaty as well, but the suggestion to take their lunch upstairs never came up.

And she had shrugged, picking at the remains of her mangled gyro, "Even if he's a hard-ass, maybe it isn't a bad thing."

And he had just shrugged back, not really wanting or caring about exploring the meaning of her words. Looking back, he thought himself an asshole. Now their hard-ass of a captain was siting to his left, punching the gas and racing down the busy streets. He was aiding in the search of one of his newest detectives, a woman he knew little to nothing about, he was speeding towards where her partner _knew _her body awaited.

And back the thoughts came.

In the trunk of her car, she'd be waiting with mouth agape and bloody saw marks dashed across her perfect pale skin. He wondered how he'd react. The cop inside of him scoffed, showing that level of emotion on the spot was absolutely out of the question. But then, it was Eames. It was his partner, the one person in his life who he could count on in every way, no matter what. It would be his Eames, drenched in blood and stiff with death. The thought even then made his stomach churn and his throat close up.

The architecture was beginning to change. And dread took hold of him. Less than a minute, they' be pulling up to the garage leading down into the depths below Police Plaza. Less than a minute, and he'd be face to face with his deceased partner. Less than a minute he'd find out if he could stomach his emotions or if they'd break free. And the car screeched to a halt, and his legs took over, throwing him from the vehicle and sending him racing down the ramp into the crowded parking garage.

When a uniform began to usher him away, he defiantly called out "It's my partner."

Crowbar in hand, taken off a gawking officer, he plunged it between the metal trunk and plastic bumper. This would be it. His moment of truth. Keep them in check, or watch them come bubbling out helplessly. He continued his easing of the trunk, he could feel it start to wriggle under his weight. Any second, it would pop open. One last chance to think about how his life would change in this very moment, and all the years ahead of him - how different they were going to be after that trunk came springing up.

He felt it click, and up it popped.

Before him a body, wrapped messily in a dark blood-stained fabric.

And his fingers reached to tug it away from the face that lie waiting beneath. One last breath, and one last thought, he pulled it down.


End file.
